


now we're walkin' with the giants

by mockturtletale



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-26
Updated: 2012-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 07:52:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1850248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mockturtletale/pseuds/mockturtletale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He only gets one terribly nice taste of that and the threat (promise) of Ryan's teeth nipping at Jordan's lower lip before their drinks are being plonked down in front of them and they're breaking apart to find Taylor standing next to them, hands in his pockets and a frown on his face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	now we're walkin' with the giants

**Author's Note:**

> [written in a 'verse where professional athletes don't have to worry about being seen kissing people in public, male or female. Also I got carried away so now it's 'five times Jordan and Taylor kissed Ryan FIRST & one time Ryan initiated it]

The first time it happens, none of them are expecting it. Jordan kisses Ryan and even Jordan doesn't see it coming. 

\----

It's hardly a special night or a huge occasion - just the three of them hanging out at a bar after a game because Taylor scored a hat trick and won them the game and a late start the next day. It's probably weird that none of the other guys are here, but it hadn't been strange when the entire rest of the locker room had shrugged off their offer of drinks, because it's become readily apparent to everyone who spends time with them that it takes all of five seconds for them to slip into inside jokes and shared stories, nothing meant to leave anyone out or done without the effort to include whoever they're with, but it's different between the three of them. 

That superb, magnetic chemistry they have on the ice is clear in every kind of interaction that they have, and it's strange but nice to see them bat conversation around as naturally and as fast as they pass the puck. It's fun to watch, but impossible to keep up with, so most of the guys have stopped trying. 

Horcs says that eventually Ebs and Hallsy will get bored of their new toy, but not everyone is convinced and Gags spends a lot of time pouting these days before Petry inevitably takes pity on him and drags him away to play video games or make plans to go golfing. 

It's a little weird, but no-one can begrudge the kids something that has the three of them walking around like they're constantly bathed in the glow of the goal light. 

\----

The dive bar that Hallsy dragged them to will be shutting up soon, and it's already mostly emptied out, but Jordan doesn't want to leave. They've had three beers each, and that was enough to last them almost as many hours because it's hard to remember to do totally natural things like picking up a bottle and drinking from it when he's got better things to do - like watching Ryan and Taylor. Sometimes Jordan feels like he can't take his eyes off them. Whenever one of them is in the room they take his attention without even trying, but Jordan is fine with the fact that he's not getting it back until they walk away again. 

Taylor goes to the restroom while Jordan and Ryan go to the bar to get one final round, and it's worse when Jordan is alone with one of them, because dividing his attention keeps his focus balanced and in hand, but the alternative means this - Ryan's weight warm against Jordan's side but his face tilted down and away so he can smile vaguely at the countertop like he's embarrassed about something, like Jordan might figure out what it is if they lock eyes. 

But then they do, and Jordan figures something out, even if it isn't what Ryan is hiding. 

Ryan lifts his head at the same time as he leans a little out of Jordan's space, keeping their hips pressed together but turning toward him so the neckline of Ryan's shirt stretches out and presents Jordan with this view of Ryan's collarbone that Jordan cannot for one second handle, because this isn't how they see one another. They see one another covered up in layers and layers and layers of equipment, or next to totally naked. Not like this. Never like this. 

Ryan isn't smiling anymore. He's watching Jordan and waiting. 

And Jordan hadn't realized before this very second that this was something he was going to do, but it happens. He turns into Ryan too, and leans into him. Gives him a second to process how close they are and what it means - what Jordan wants to happen next. Ryan doesn't move away or lean in, just lets his mouth part softly and raises a sharp eyebrow because that's who he is - challenge and invitation. 

Jordan takes him up on both. 

He drops a hand to Ryan's waist, shivers at the warmth of Ryan's skin beneath his thin tshirt, and then he leans in and up and presses his mouth to Ryan's. Ryan's fingers fist in the front of Jordan's sweater and drag him in closer, and Jordan's eyes are closed because he doesn't want to know anything in that moment that isn't Ryan's hands on him and Ryan's tongue in his mouth, but he only gets one terribly nice taste of that and the threat (promise) of Ryan's teeth nipping at Jordan's lower lip before their drinks are being plonked down in front of them and they're breaking apart to find Taylor standing next to them, hands in his pockets and a frown on his face. 

So that's the first time that happens. And none of them know where to go from here. 

\----

Ryan and Jordan don't talk about it, but Taylor and Jordan do. 

They're best friends. Probably closer than that without ever having actually done anything to explicitly profess that, but they both know it anyway. Jordan always thought it was just a matter of time, but maybe it was the matter of _Ryan_ instead. 

"So that totally just happened," Taylor says the second they get home, before they've even hung their jackets up inside the door. 

They'd wanted Ryan to come hang out for a while, but he'd begged off, claiming to be tired. He didn't close back up after the kiss - didn't pack away his thoughts and his words and his expressions like he can when he's not comfortable, when he's not sure of himself, so they hadn't pushed it. He probably needs some time to think. 

Taylor has always preferred to talk. 

"Like ... you kissed Ryan. On the mouth. In a bar. With tongue. His hands were like white-knuckled in your shirt, man. That was fucking hot. Tell me that wasn't the best kiss you've ever had. It shot straight to the top of my list, and nobody's mouth was even on my mouth. Did he bite you? That was so fucking hot." 

Taylor looks dazed, his eyes bright and shining in a way that has nothing to do with anything he's had to drink tonight. He's pretty fucking hot himself, and Jordan doesn't understand how this is his life. Clearly thinking doesn't get him anywhere, and he couldn't find the words to say what he wants to say right now if he tried, so he reels Taylor in with a hand hooked into the pocket of his hoody and kisses him instead. Taylor opens right up for it, slicks his tongue in against Jordan's while Jordan is still stuck on figuring out whether or not that would be okay, and Taylor kisses totally differently to how Ryan does, but it's still pretty much amazing. Taylor's mouth is languid, lazy and sure with the kind of confidence that he has every right to have, and Jordan falls for it over and over again, breathing hard through his nose so he doesn't have to pull away before Taylor has him pushed back up against the front door and whimpering. 

When Taylor pulls away, his mouth is even more flushed and obscenely inviting than usual. Jordan tries valiantly not to lean up into him, but only Taylor's hands on his shoulders grant him his dignity in that moment. 

"Are you on some kind of mission? Are you trying to see how many hockey players you can make out with in one night?" 

It's not right that Taylor can look that good when he's giving Jordan the stink eye, but his chest is still heaving to find breath and his shoulders are stupidly, unfairly broad and his jaw line is sharp enough to serve as a constant taunt to Jordan's teeth, so Jordan can't really find it in himself to give a fuck about fairness in the face of all that. 

"C'mon, don't be dumb. You know it's not like that," Jordan says mostly to Taylor's throat, because it's not, but he's only human. 

Thankfully, Taylor gets it. 

"Yeah, I do know. I'm just making sure that you've finally caught up," he murmurs, close enough now that the words are a hum between their lips, the sound all that's still between them. 

Jordan smiles against Taylor's lips, and closes his eyes when Taylor's hands move up to push through his hair, to catch and tug Jordan's head back so he can step in between Jordan's spread thighs and kiss him again and again and again. 

"One down, one to go," he says when they part ways to go get ready for bed, and that's all that needs to be said. 

\----

It's not weird at practice the next day. 

Jordan pauses for a split second when he walks into the locker room and sees Ryan already there and half naked, but when Ryan looks up and grins at him Jordan realizes that the near-constant desire to make out with and wrap himself around two of his teammates is nothing close to new. 

And so practice goes on as usual, Jordan only has to break up Ryan and Taylor's play fights twice, and there's nothing at all terrifying or unnatural about asking if Ryan is coming over to to eat tonight before the game, because that's become as integral a part of their daily routine as anything else at this point. 

Ryan doesn't hesitate when he says 'yes'. 

\----

Jordan cooks, and Ryan and Taylor hang around leaning against things and perching on counter-tops, generally getting underfoot and being in Jordan's way. 

After they eat they play video games, which quickly becomes a flimsy excuse to chirp and playfully touch one another under the guise of cheating shoves and distracting flails. 

So all in all it's a pretty great day. Jordan really can't complain. 

\----

Taylor is pretty obviously getting antsy, though, and that figures because he's not exactly a guy that's content to just let things take their course. Once he's decided on something he's in it whole-heartedly and relentless in his pursuit of it, so when they're about to leave for the arena and Taylor derails that to push Ryan up against the very same door that he and Jordan made out against last night, Jordan is mostly just surprised it took him this long. 

Ryan doesn't look very surprised either. In fact, his only reaction is to catch Jordan's eye over Taylor's shoulder and roll his eyes fondly. 

Taylor is undeterred by how predictable they both find him. 

Jordan leans into the wall with his arms folded and not entirely disinterestedly watches while Taylor leans in (not having to bend a little like he does with Jordan, and seeing Ryan and Taylor pressed together, basically the same height, definitely does something for Jordan) and rubs the tip of his nose in against Ryan's. 

"Can I kiss you?" he asks, and Ryan laughs quietly, but his hands slip up underneath the back of Taylor's jacket, and Jordan's incredibly jealous, forgive him if it takes a minute to figure out who of. 

"You basically already are," Ryan says, but his laughter cuts off shortly when Taylor ducks his head to press his face to Ryan's throat, nosing up along the line of his jaw, "but yeah, yes, you can. Sure." 

His breath hitches twice during that sentence, and Jordan flushes, has to close his eyes for a second to get it together again because they're standing like two feet away from him, clutching at one another and kissing right there in front of him, and he wants them both so bad he needs to cling to the thought that he can't have them, because the alternative to that undoes him. 

Jordan has to close his eyes again when Taylor finally pulls away and Ryan blinks up at him, flush faced and wet-mouthed. 

Then it's a simple matter of cajoling them apart and getting the three of them out of the apartment before Jordan forgets that he's supposed to be the responsible one, here. 

\---- 

Ryan scores twice in the first period, and Jordan and Taylor add goals in the second and third, prompting their teammates to declare their victory "courtesy of Baby Oil." 

Horcs slings an arm around Ryan's shoulders and ruffles his hair, giving him a booming congratulations on how well he's "rubbing off" on Taylor and Jordan, and Ryan's no longer a rookie so he simply laughs and shrugs Horcs off, doesn't react to the hoots and hollers at all. 

But when Jordan catches him by his elbow just before they leave, and murmurs a quiet 'those were great goals,' to him, Ryan blushes and ducks his head and scrubs a hand through his still wet hair in a way that Jordan's only ever seen him do when he's nervous and fidgety. 

"You too," Ryan says, looking up at Jordan from under his eyelashes and there's something in his expression that Jordan wants to pause and keep, so he can figure it out later, but then Taylor is crowding them both out the door with a hand touched to the small of their backs, and that's enough of an answer for right now.

\----

Eventually, they've got to talk about it. 

Everything is a little different now, a little more, and the third time Jordan shivers after Ryan touches him in a totally innocent, completely non-sexual way, Ryan shakes his head and sighs at Jordan. 

"Do we have to talk about it?" 

Jordan didn't think they would, but he also thought it wouldn't be something that Ryan wouldn't want to talk about, so now he's confused. 

"I mean ... we probably should, maybe." 

Ryan thumbs the volume on the remote but then opts to switch the tv off completely, pulling one foot up under himself and shifting on the couch so he's facing Jordan. He hooks both hands under his knee, and his knuckles are warm against Jordan's thigh, the muscles across his shoulders and down along his arms are stretched and flexed and Jordan wants to follow the curve of them with his mouth, he wants to lick Ryan's wrists. 

"Okay, so to recap: you kissed me. And then Taylor kissed me. I'm assuming that at some point in there you kissed Taylor. All true so far?" 

Jordan nods, only mostly dazed by the thought of sucking on Ryan's knuckles, still. 

"And that's all fine. So why are you being weird and skittish? Is it ... is it that you don't want it to happen again? Because that's okay too. Just say so. I'm not going to jump you." 

Jordan would laugh at that, but he's too busy tripping over the notion of Ryan jumping him. When his head clears, Ryan is looking at him like he honestly thinks Jordan is about to say that he's right, that Jordan doesn't want it to happen again. Ryan's trying pretty hard to maintain something like a reassuring smile, but Jordan is gratified to note that he mostly looks like he's trying to hide preemptive disappointment. That definitely makes this easier to say. 

"I definitely want it to happen again. That's kind of why I'm ... nervous around you, I guess. I can't stop thinking about it. I want it to happen all the time." 

Ryan watches Jordan for a moment when he finishes speaking, checking to make sure Jordan isn't messing with him, and when he's assured that he's not, he smiles. This pleased, almost smug little smile that looks really really good on him. 

"All the time? Are you thinking about it right now?" 

And if Jordan hadn't been dropping his gaze to watch Ryan's mouth routinely all afternoon, he'd definitely be picking up that habit right around now. 

"Mhmm," is all Jordan can manage in reply, because Ryan has tugged the inside of his bottom lip between his teeth and Jordan can see his tongue, and fuck, he really really wants that in his mouth. He wants Ryan spread out underneath him on this couch and arching into him, his hands trapped up over his head so Jordan doesn't get distracted from the tension of his body and the way it would react to Jordan's touch. 

Ryan is leaning in, balancing his weight with his hands on Jordan's thigh, now, and Jordan's breath catches in his throat because he didn't think it would happen now, he didn't think he'd get to have this again so soon.

But he doesn't, not yet, because Ryan pauses when there's barely an inch left between them and smiles wickedly at Jordan. 

"Ask. Ask me if you can," he says, and a shiver rips through Jordan so hard that Ryan's smile gets even sharper, but he doesn't move away. He knows that Jordan will ask. He knows Jordan will do whatever Ryan wants. 

"Can I ... please can I kiss you?" Jordan whispers against Ryan's mouth, and then waits approximately half a second after Ryan nods to get a hand cupped around the back of Ryan's neck and pull him down, pull him _in_ so he's basically half in Jordan's lap, letting Jordan kiss him like he's been waiting days to get to do this - because he has. 

This time they don't get interrupted, and Jordan gets to break away from kissing Ryan only to push his face in against Ryan's throat, letting his mouth find Ryan's collarbones, his teeth catch under the rise of Ryan's adam's apple. Jordan gets to taste the sound of Ryan groaning into his mouth, and learns by heart what it feels like to bite Ryan's bottom lip between his teeth and lick up over the soft, slick round of it. 

Eventually Jordan has to pull away because he doesn't want to push his luck, he doesn't want Ryan to have to be the one to pull away. 

They spend the rest of the afternoon cuddled up on the couch, Ryan still sitting half in Jordan's lap with his head against Jordan's shoulder, and when Taylor comes home a little while later he settles comfortably in on Ryan's other side. When Ryan puts a hand on Taylor's knee, Taylor covers it with his own and curls his knuckles down in between Ryan's. Taylor smiles at Jordan, and Jordan smiles back over Ryan's head, where it's now tucked in under Jordan's chin. 

And then none of them move again for a really long time.

\----

It hardly even matters that they get knocked out of the Conference Finals, because they made it to the Conference Finals - _they made it to the playoffs_. They worked their asses off to get there, so Jordan is absolutely down to spend a couple days blowing off steam after that before they've gotta knuckle down again and gear up to win the Stanley next season. 

He and Taylor decide to throw a party at their apartment, because most of the other guys have wives and children who shouldn't ever have to witness the kind of celebration that's about to go down, and Jordan is pretty glad that they're moving out of this place soon because they'll probably never get the smell of beer out of the carpet. 

Jordan is perched on the arm of the couch, talking to Hemmer about something super important, he's sure, but he's vaguely thinking about how he hasn't seen Taylor or Ryan in a while when a series of shocked laughter and delighted heckles erupts from the kitchen, and Jordan looks over to see that that's where Ryan and Taylor have gotten to. 

Ryan is sitting up on the counter in his usual spot, his drink sitting next to him obviously long forgotten because Taylor is standing between his spread thighs, his baseball cap switched backwards so it doesn't get in the way when he leans in with his hands on either side of Ryan's hips and kisses him with a kind of focused enthusiasm that Jordan has never witnessed from him before. They've never celebrated making it to the playoffs before, though, so Jordan isn't jealous. 

Hemmer clears his throat and Jordan manages to look away from the spectacle they're making, totally unabashed and unapologetic about it, clearly. 

"Isn't he ... isn't one of them your boyfriend?" Hemmer enquires so politely and cautiously that Jordan honest to god giggles. 

"Ummmm..." Jordan really has no idea how to answer that question. 

"Are _both_ of them your boyfriend?" Hemmer hedges, tentative, and Jordan has to look away again because he has no idea what his face is gonna do in response to that question. He just hopes it's not completely evident how badly he wants to be able to say 'yes'. 

Taylor and Ryan are still kissing messily and enthusiastically, one of Ryan's hands caught in the neckline of Taylor's shirt and both of Taylor's hands riding low on Ryan's back, pushed up under his shirt and pulling Ryan forward, keeping him close. Taylor leans down to start in on what will have to be a pretty impressive bite low on the base of Ryan's throat, and everyone in a five foot radius of them suddenly finds something else to look at when Ryan tips his head up to the ceiling and bares his neck for Taylor, slipping a hand into the back pocket of Taylor's jeans while he works. They're utterly obscene together, so far beyond any conception of 'hot' that Jordan has ever registered before, and his mouth is dry, his hands are trembling around his beer bottle just watching them. 

"Not really. Not yet," Jordan says, but when Hemmer doesn't reply Jordan turns back to find that he's slipped away, leaving Jordan alone with his thoughts. Alone with his plans, really.

\----

Ryan stays over that night, even though he didn't drink that much and could totally catch a ride back with Jonesy or Jeff anyway. 

It's something Taylor obviously orchestrates because when Jordan shuts the door after the last of their guests leave, he turns around to see Ryan pad across their living room in his bare feet, wearing just his boxers and an old shirt of Taylor's that's stretched out around the neckline but not nearly as big on Ryan's shoulders as Jordan would have expected. 

He sleeps in the spare room and lets them each press a chaste kiss to his mouth when they say goodnight, but Jordan can't sleep knowing that he's so close, wondering what all of this means and only mostly completely panicking about how this could all go terribly wrong or turn out to be not at all what he's thinking it might be. 

Taylor lets him toss and turn for a little while before he shifts up onto one elbow and pulls Jordan in against him, wraps his arm around Jordan's waist and presses his mouth against Jordan's neck, high up behind his ear. Jordan still isn't totally used to them sleeping in the same bed, and tonight it feels especially strange. 

"Do you feel weird because he's here?" Taylor asks, and there's nothing accusatory about it. 

"Yeah," Jordan admits, "but not because he stayed over, more like ... because he ..." 

"Because he's here but he's not here with us, right?" Taylor finishes for him, and the breath Jordan had been holding rushes out of him in quick relief. 

"Yeah. Yes. Exactly. Is it weird to miss him when he's like fifteen feet away?" Jordan asks quietly, because it fills the whole room even in a whisper.

"We're a couple of professional athletes looking to get into a permanent threeway with our teammate, Ebby, I don't think we can really concern ourselves with 'weird' anymore," Taylor whispers back, mournful, and that makes Jordan smile. 

Jordan turns in Taylor's arms and pushes his hands down along Taylor's back, dragging them closer together and tucking his face in against Taylor's chest, hiding there against him for a second. 

"What are we gonna do?" 

Taylor presses his nose into Jordan's hair and pulls the sheets up over their shoulders, settling in to go to sleep. 

"We'll figure it out. We'll make it work. We'll talk to him," he says around a yawn, and he sounds pretty hopeful about the whole thing, so Jordan falls asleep thinking about the sound of that, and the promise of potential that it holds.

\----

The next day is their last day together for a while. They're all heading home for the summer and they probably won't see Ryan again until the NHL Awards in Vegas - that's months away. 

Jordan wakes up with a knot in his stomach, and it doesn't go away when he looks over at Taylor and finds him lying there already awake, frowning at the ceiling. 

They don't talk about it because there's nothing to say. 

Ryan obviously isn't ready. He's happy enough for them to kiss him, seems to have that every time it happens, but he's never reached for them first and they're not about to rush him on that. He's coming off a year that would have been hard even if it hadn't been his first in the NHL and of course he needs time. Jordan doesn't begrudge him that, he's just really really going to miss him. 

Maybe that's something that Ryan picks up on, because he trails them around the apartment like a lost puppy all morning. He's everywhere Jordan turns, or playing Taylor's shadow instead, and it's next to unbearable because there's this tension - this _charge_ that spikes and shivers between them, making Jordan want to haul Ryan up against the nearest vertical surface and hide his hands and his face in Ryan's clothes, press his wishes and his wants into Ryan's skin so that he knows. 

But they move around one another, instead, not really looking at each other, not ever touching. For hours Ryan trails them as they pack, sitting on the floor next to Jordan's bed picking up the things that fall wide when Jordan flings them at his open suitcase; wordlessly showing Taylor for the hundredth time how to work the dryer by shoving him out of the way and doing it himself. He’s everywhere and not there at all. His presence is haunting, a taunt that Jordan would call cruel if Ryan’s face wasn’t blank and drawn and pale. 

Taylor and Jordan aren't leaving until the next day, Ryan not until the day after that, but it feels like time stops in their apartment that day; the air full and stifling and none of them doing a thing to clear it. Jordan wishes he knew what to say or if there was something he could do to make everything good again, but getting through it seems to be about as much as he can manage. 

They eat lunch together and don't speak. 

They have a stilted, quiet conversation about what they'll order in for dinner and they talk lowly over the tv while they eat. 

What they say is hard to hear over the clamour of everything they serve as silence. 

The evening is better and worse - warm somehow; fraught with a tension that friction has made hot. They sit together on the couch, as close as they can get, and they touch skin to skin where Ryan’s elbow rests in against Taylor’s on one side, his pinky finger brushing Jordan’s wrist on the other. 

When Ryan gets up and tugs his hoody on, Jordan almost breaks. He wants to wrestle the sweatshirt out of Ryan’s hands and then wrestle this whole thing out into the open - take it and break it apart so they can just _talk_ about it, so they can’t walk away and leave it here to rot all summer without recognition and too late to ever salvage. 

But Jordan knows that if he pushes it it could blow up in all their faces. Ryan is cautious for a reason, and Jordan gets that - he and Taylor have to respect it. 

So Jordan does nothing when Ryan gets up to leave, and he says nothing when Ryan hugs Taylor goodbye, long and hard and with a little sound that gets caught in Ryan’s throat when he pulls away, a thick hiccup of something that Jordan sees shining in Taylor’s eyes. 

Jordan follows Ryan to the door and lets Ryan pull him into his arms. He shivers, as usual, but Ryan doesn’t seem to notice because he’s too busy trying to envelop Jordan completely with nothing but his own body and the force of his will - a tension that Jordan feels heavy all though Ryan. It’s insane, touching Ryan like this. They spend so much time in one another’s space - brushing by one another in the locker room, leaping into hard, sweaty hugs on the ice. They’ve touched one another near naked, and covered up in layers that keep them far apart, but there’s something raw about this middle ground - something so heady that Jordan can barely breathe. Ryan is warm through his clothes and pressed tight to Jordan not making any move to leave, and he’s _close_ in a way that’s simultaneously far too much and nowhere near close to enough. 

When Ryan finally pulls away he lets one hand rest on the round of Jordan’s shoulder for a second, and when he steps back his hand falls slowly down the length of Jordan’s arm, his fingertips tracing the veins that twist down around Jordan’s forearm in a way that’s so maddeningly intimate Jordan gasps. He reaches out to catch Ryan’s hand before it falls away completely, and then they’re standing there toe to toe, holding hands and watching one another not say a single thing. 

Jordan sees it in the way Ryan looks at him, and he feels it in the way Ryan is gripping his hand tight enough for his pulse to beat through Jordan’s palm. 

This time when they kiss, it’s Ryan who moves first. Ryan who reaches for Jordan. He traces the angle of Jordan’s jawline with his thumb, and he’s not smiling when he leans in to press his mouth to Jordan’s. He doesn’t pull Jordan in, or let go of Jordan’s hand. He just bows forward into Jordan and says what he means with a kiss that’s nothing like any of the ones he’s shared with either of them before. It’s soft, and it’s sure, and in Jordan’s mouth Ryan’s tongue is honest about the things they can’t put into words. Jordan listens, and Jordan knows. 

Ryan isn’t smiling when the kiss stops, either, but the kiss does stop - it doesn’t break, it pauses just long enough for Ryan to step up onto his toes and press it then to Taylor’s mouth, stretching over Jordan’s shoulder to reach Taylor where he’s warm and solid at Jordan’s back. 

Jordan closes his eyes and lets his forehead fall in against Ryan’s chest, and he breathes and breathes and breathes until he thinks he could fall asleep right here, held up between them. 

But then Taylor reaches for the hand that isn’t still clasped in Ryan’s, and Ryan is dropping his keys on the table and toeing off his shoes, locking the front door behind him and gently pushing Jordan backward, following him down the hall. 

“Let’s go to bed, we’ve got a lot to do tomorrow,” Ryan says. 

He presses a kiss to Jordan’s forehead, and when he pulls away he’s smiling.


End file.
